#neogun.

everyone’s making a lot of fuss about a few lights. this is her first opinion, on the whole thing. she’s got backup generators for the plants and, on top of that, they can manage a few days solely based in the aquaponic set up, without the aid of the lights and rigmarole. that’s mostly just to stimulate growtimes to meet up with jinsol’s ridiculous demands. the business grows by the day and nature can only do so much to keep up. 

so she heads back an hour or two after the generators all power down and afterlife isn’t fun anymore anyway,  just a crush of bodies in a dark room that is rapidly becoming way too humid and claustrophobic for her liking. the back streets are still cool from the winter air, at least, so she takes a deep breath. the taint of pollution is still there, to be sure,  but at least she’s as accustomed to that now as one can be. it’s relatively fresher, anyway, than the tangle of panic soaked bodies in the room she’s left behind. 

the green house is quiet. she doesn’t really have anything to do, and she can’t really tell, when the final phase sets in. there’s nothign to give her a clue that the world has been plunged further into chaos. lacking in modifications herself, she’s wrapped up rather peacefully in botanical sketches of the latest hybrid plant she’s bred into existence, has been carefully nurturing. it sits in front of her, with curling leaves and a fuzzed stem, and is the object of her entire focus when gun comes crashing into the room like a man possessed, grabs her by the shoulders and yanks her around on top of her stool to face him. she blinks up at him skeptical and owlish. “can i fucking help you, weirdo?”